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The Billionaire's Secret Triplets: Mom's Revenge

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 834    |    Released on: 22/01/2026

grabbed Algernon's hand, haul

. The Rolls Royce was listing to one side, its alarm blaring. Secu

ointing toward the parking g

ccess road, dodging a shut

ared from behind them, carryin

of that man in the car-the faceless phantom whose presence felt

away from the car and starte

Annelis

dragging the suitcases.

hem! he

d near the entrance to the garage. With a gru

h other, creating a metal

rd slammed into t

dim concrete throat

? Annelis

t his watch. "Exit 4. There is a taxi dr

enough, a yellow taxi was just pullin

assenger-a startled businessman-aside

ew the kids into the back

sh from her pocket-her emergency fund-and threw a hundred

eard, looked at the money, then at the pu

. "You got

hed away, tires smoking, leaving the b

l lights disappear into the traffic. His own secur

ands clenched into fists at his

m. "The car is disabled. The tires wer

about the car. He didn

iro. His face was

e boy? Archiba

ne who attac

ald corrected. "The one who

d. "The resemblance is

nt to know who those children are. I want to know where she has been hiding them. My original plan

pulled up, ignoring Jenelle, who was no

he facial recognition software. I want that taxi found. I want that woman's

er seat, his heart pounding a

e image of the boy's face

e. The look

pi

o had betrayed him. Why did she look at him with such genuine, horri

the empty air. "And secure the ass

le, hugging them so tight it hurt. She was sobb

her arm awkwardly. "We got away. I

se cried, kissing his dirty fore

es wide. "The man in the big car...

ed her life. She didn't know how the enforcer for her phantom husband could smell

e knew the

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The Billionaire's Secret Triplets: Mom's Revenge
The Billionaire's Secret Triplets: Mom's Revenge
“Six years ago, I was a naive girl sold by my father to the powerful Sanders estate, only to be tossed onto the streets after a brutal assault they labeled "marital infidelity." I fled the country pregnant and broken, hiding from the shadow of a husband I had never even met. Now, I've returned to New York with my triplets to sign the final divorce papers and disappear forever. But Archibald Sanders-the man I was told was a crippled recluse-intercepted us with the cold precision of a predator. He didn't see the woman his family destroyed; he saw a gold-digger who had shamed his name. His security team hunted us to a grimy motel, using tactical force to snatch my children away and drag me to his glass-walled empire. In his office, he loomed over me, demanding a DNA test and threatening to throw me in prison while my babies were lost to the foster system. He was convinced I'd cheated, yet he stared at my sons with a haunting confusion, unable to ignore the stormy blue eyes that were a perfect mirror of his own. I stood there, paralyzed by his scent-the sharp tang of rain and expensive leather that triggered the icy dread of my worst nightmares. How could he accuse me of betrayal when he felt exactly like the monster who had shattered my life in that dark hotel room? "I'll sign anything," I sobbed, "just give me my kids." But the game changed when my five-year-old son hacked the tower's security, holding the skyscraper hostage to save me. In the chaos, a fragile, silent boy-Archibald's secret son-wandered into the room and reached for me as if I were his missing soul. Archibald's face turned to stone as he tore up the agreement and locked the doors. "Until I find out why my son is looking at you like that," he growled, "you aren't going anywhere."”